


i am his, he is mine (in the end, it's him and i)

by JewFlexive



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Actually Everyone Needs A Hug, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, I think I'm succeeding, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jorah Mormont Lives, Minor Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, ON HIATUS I'M SORRY, POV Daenerys, Partners to Lovers, Queen Daenerys, Tyrion Lannister Ships It, Tyrion needs a hug, my attempt to like daenerys, reposted, so does jorah, what a shock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 04:50:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewFlexive/pseuds/JewFlexive
Summary: "This is a love," she thinks, her small hand cupping his weathered cheek as they stand beneath the relentless Qarthian sun. She is glad of it. "This is a love, and it is mine."{Alternatively: Jorah Mormont is with her even when he isn’t, and Dany knows this in her bones.}





	i am his, he is mine (in the end, it's him and i)

It is the next night when Jorah finally speaks.

He is sitting next to her in her tent as she stares at nothing, his arm a warm weight against Dany’s shoulder. It is a new moon tonight, just a black sky with little specks of stars, and Dany’s heart still won’t mend, still won’t stitch itself back together, despite the three miracles resting at her feet. His breath is even and unlabored, and she is timing her heartbeats to them when he opens his mouth for the first time since she emerged from her husband’s pyre and he pledged her his sword. 

She expects him to tell her it will all be alright–-- that he will protect her, that he alone will bring her Westeros and the Iron Throne. She expects him to emulate a man she loved that is now dead, though she isn’t sure which man he’d choose--- Viserys, her foolish brother, with his arrogant smile and cruel, desperate love, or Drogo, her savage husband, with his coarse hands, glittering eyes, and quiet gentleness.

She should have known, though, that Ser Jorah would not be anyone but himself, not to her who could see through it in a moment.

“I was eight when I left Bear Island for the first time,” he begins his tale with a small smile, and his blue blue eyes begin to shine as they do whenever he talks about his home. “My father took me to visit Winterfell, and I was more excited than you could imagine. But my mother despaired of it.”

“Why?” Dany asks, though she believes she knows the answer. No mother would want to give up her child, not one worthy of the name. She looks down at her dragons once more and forces herself to marvel at them in order to ignore the harsh, unrelenting fact that she did exactly that. “Would she have missed you so very much?”

Jorah laughs, a full sound with a red richness Dany didn’t anticipate. She wonders if it is the first time she has heard it, but quickly decides it doesn’t matter, because she makes it her cause to hear it endlessly for the rest of her days. She will bottle this laugh up and sip from it, and it will save her from any assassin The Usurper dares send to harm her. 

“No, I think she was grateful for the reprieve,” he finally says before leaning in conspiratorially. “She was worried that I would anger Lord Stark. I had just learned that Bear Island would be mine one day, but I was an ambitious lad back then, before all this. I told my maester and anyone else who would listen that I would settle for no less than three kingdoms by the time I came into my lordship. It was quite the scandal.”

She can’t help it. She laughs too. Her husband is dead and her brother is dead and her son, her Rhaego, her _hope_, is dead, but she is laughing so hard that she is floating away with the stars above her. She is laughing and her arm is still touching Jorah’s, and she feels like she’s finally come back home.

But home is in far away in Braavos (Westeros) with a pretty red door and a lemon tree (the Iron Throne and seven whole kingdoms), so this feeling can’t be real. Jorah is kind and good and he will be her Hand one day, but that is all. For she is a new widow, her sun and stars is gone, and her heart is weeping. She loved Drogo. She loved him so much it felt like she was drowning in it, that she would choke on the regard and adoration they shared, that her lips would fall off from kissing him too long too often. And he is gone.

She is grieving and distraught and Jorah is her friend. There is no reason to read into this. The night is deep and somehow beautiful once more and Westeros is closer than it has ever been (she knows this as surely as she feels her three children shift around her) and a person that she cares about is beside her. She will take what is real and hold onto it tight so no one, not even Robert Baratheon, can take it from her. 

She will not ask for more or less, not now, when the wind is forgiving and she can see Irri and Rakharo in the distance sweetly coupling beneath the open sky. Jorah’s laugh is as warm as dragonfire and sweet as lemon cake, and his eyes are as blue as a perfect springtime sky. She takes this. She buries it deep within her mind for another night when he is not beside her (and, oh, how she dreads that night.)

She smiles as she asks him to continue his story, and his hand bumps hers and stays there as her dragons sing.

**Author's Note:**

> So Season 8 sucked.
> 
> I need another WIP like I need a third world war but oh well.
> 
> Enjoy! And as always, reviews are welcome!
> 
> [WARNING: This story is Jorah/Dany endgame BUT Jonerys will be featured. So if you can't stand the incest (or the lack of chemistry between the two) be careful.]


End file.
